Nightmare Fuel
by PhantomMemories
Summary: 5 Elements: Nightmare Fuel, Crabs, Alfred, Finnish metal and a volkswagon. This is NaNoWriMo material, so there may be errors. Still: Alfred couldn't remember exactly how he got to this city, or where this thing had come from, but he knew he had to defeat it. He was the hero, after all! (T for naughty words, may be implied brotherly or otherly USUK) Human names only.


Nightmare Fuel

"What do you fear?"

The words hadn't really meant much to Alfred at the time, having been far too involved in a game to pay more than a passing fake interest in the conversation. So many more things to think about than what crept around in his brain at O-Dark-O-clock in the morning when he'd had too much Mountain Dew, and too many horror stories rattling around in his brain and mixing with memories.

"There's something about facing your fears," his conversation partner had said, touching the delicate porcelain lip of the cup, and sipping with a genteel air. "Something satisfying at times. You wouldn't know about that, would you?"

At the time Alfred had just rolled his eyes, and gone back to the cheerful colors and canned music of his game. Yeah, like he was going to admit his greatest fears to someone who might be in a position to use those fears against him next Halloween. Nuh-uh. Not happening.

"There's a way to defeat them-" Al had tuned his sometimes friend, sometimes enemy, all the time piece of his existence out at that point.

Now he wished he hadn't.

At the very least he wished he knew where the hell the brain was on a crab, because stabbing a giant crab with the splintered remains of a telephone pole might sound like a fantastic plan that was sure to succeed, it was also one that didn't fucking work.

And his head was throbbing.

The atmosphere (not the social one, the air this time) was so thick, it was as though he was swimming.

Al vowed, the next time he was in Maryland to have an extra serving of crab cakes, and find a crab fisherman (Crabman? Crab fisher?) and ask them how they killed these things. Not that any of them had ever had to deal with one that was about a hundred feet wide, and half as long. The dominant claw was as big as a volkswagon- and could probably snap something other than a telephone pole in half very easily.

And now it had a large chunk of wood sticking out of its carapace, where Alfred had attempted to shove the improvised weapon through the crustacean's brain. And missed, as it was still swinging that huge claw (and the smaller one) around, crashing through a glass window, and all legs skittering along the sidewalk in a way that made the blue walking nightmare look as though it was swimming.

He had to be dreaming. Alfred had to be dreaming, and he'd wake up soon, and his friend would be there, and laugh at his sudden fear of crabs and lobsters, and other assorted sea animals- and just looking at this thing was giving him creepy shivers. The telephone pole swung around like another antannae, as though the thing had picked up how absolutely discomfited Al was, and was honing in on the small creature that had tried to stake it like a vampire, but through the head.

The high pitched keening noise that came out of the flanged mouth would've been funny- if it wasn't coming from a giant crab, whose eyestalks were swiveling to focus on where Alfred was hiding between a couple of cars and a fence, trying to figure out where to go next.

It would've been funny, if it wasn't sending little pricks of pain through his brain.

The thrumming in the ground that Alfred had assumed to be just the reverberation from where this thing was walking (Or maybe it was just the sound of his own pulse in his ears) developed into a muffled sound. (How much did this weigh anyway?)

But the muffled sound wasn't a good sign. It meant that there might be someone heading this way- and he'd been sure the area was evacuated. It sounded nothing like a bomber, and Alfred was pretty sure that if this thing was going to be taken out, they'd have to get something heavy in there. Especially since he'd already stabbed it, and all that that had done to the giant crab was make it mad.

Alfred winced at the idea of someone else getting close enough to … The eyestalks were on him again, weren't they? If he could keep its attention long enough to get whoever it was to run away-

The humvee that he'd been expecting to come over the hill turned out to be something else- it was...

A monster truck, with windows wide open, blaring some half-familiar metal music out of the windows, and a bunch of letters on the side in Finnish.

Whatever "Haista vittu" meant.

But Finnish meant that someone else that he knew was going to be in danger of getting pinched in half by that giant monster.

"Oi, Alfred." The familiar voice chirped out of the window as it did a quick spin around the wrecked buildings. "What are you doing?"

"Fighting this thing- it's gonna take down the city if I don't." Alfred watched the crab flinch towards the truck, then towards him. It was confused at all the noise. "Can you help me get it before it moults and grows bigger?"

"Sure!" The cheerful voice told him, "Just hop in and use my bed-mount RPG launcher!"

...That was unexpected.

How had Tino known to bring weaponry? He hadn't been able to call Arthur, the crab had taken out the phone lines before he could even ask. Maybe an evacuee had called help?

But that didn't explain why Tino had an RPG launcher mounted in the back of his monster truck with Finnish swears written on it, or why he was now using another car as a ramp to launch the vehicle onto the back of the giant blue crab.

...What?

He couldn't stop to think right now, because another one of his friends had just put himself in danger, and he was going to rescue Tino if it was the last thing he-

"Come on, Alfred! You've got to get up!" Tino's voice morphed into Arthur's, and from the other side of the truck he could see Arthur leaning out the window and yelling to him. He didn't look afraid, but then again, Alfred rarely remembered seeing Arthur scared.

The crab was flailing now, sending showers of glass and debris around the area, and apparently some of that had triggered an earthquake, because everything was shaking, and Alfred didn't know what else to do, as the giant volkswagon sized claw batted the monster truck off of its back, and sent it hurtling straight towards Alfred.

"Al!"

"Fuck!" Al yelled, throwing himself to the side, and watching as the monster truck crashed into the brick wall, and immediately burst into flames. Shit. Shit. Shit. Arthur and Tino-

Alfred managed to get to his feet, and take two steps towards the vehicle, to try and rescue his friends-

And was slammed into the pavement by something blue and hard.

The fucking crab. He'd forgotten about the crab- and Arthur and Tino-

He could hear the music that had been blaring the whole time melting, as the vehicle burned. The passengers didn't even move- he couldn't really see them anyway, but Alfred knew they wouldn't be …

Shit. Shit. His friends were dead, and he was being dragged towards the gaping maw (Oh dear GOD, how the hell had he not seen that maw before? It hadn't looked so wide before, but then again, he hadn't been this fucking close-

The claw was pinching tighter around his waist, and the nasty monster breath was cold on his feet. It smelled like... like...

Flat soda, and stale popcorn.

Seriously, what the fuck?

"Alfred, don't squirm like that, or you'll get stuck."

Arthur's voice? But Artie and Tino-

"I don't think he's awake yet." Tino.

Alfred redoubled his flailing, only to find that his arms had somehow been pinned- and the mouth had a hold of his ankles.

He was going to die. He was going to be digested slowly by the stomach acids of a monster crab. (The teeth weren't even sharp, or putting any pressure on him, just pulling him in-

That most definitely wasn't a whimper that Alfred just let out. No, he wasn't going to start sobbing, just because his best friend was dead, and his other friend was dead and there'd be no Christmas this year, and...

"Alfred..." he could almost feel Arthur's arms around him, and the warmth of his breath against his neck. Al must be dying. Al must be dead, because the ghosts of his friends couldn't scare him any more than he was... "His heart is racing."

"We should move him somewhere more comfortable- I'll go get some help."

Um?

Cool air brushed his damp cheeks, followed by a warmth, as a cheek pressed against his.

"Come on, love, you've got to wake up soon."

Alfred's breath caught, the sensation of teeth that weren't quite teeth fading, head still pounding.

Even the pincer was easing, fading into arms holding him close to a warm _living_ body.

"There we go." He could almost see the smile, even as he realized that everything was so … dark. Maybe if he opened his eyes-

"Arthur?" Green eyes under thick, and knotted brows, and the relieved smile that followed. Alfred still felt a bit like he was under water, his tongue thick with sleep. "What..."

"You jumped when the monster came out, and your decorations came down and … well, somehow you managed to tie yourself up and knock yourself out at the same time. Tino was impressed."

"Talented."

"You are indeed." A hand brushed his cheek. "Why were you crying?"

"Dream." Alfred shivered, remembering the crab, and the fire, and- "You and Tino died, and there was this crab."

"Shh. It's all right. I'm alive, and Tino's alive. He just went to grab Berwald to help move you to your room."

Alfred nodded, winced.

"I can walk." he made no move to get up. Alfred's legs still felt a bit like jelly. "Just need to get on my feet."

"All right then." Arthur supported him as Alfred got his legs under him, and rose, wobbly as a colt. "You're a bit unsteady. I think we might have to take you to hospital to check out that bump."

As they managed to turn towards the door, Tino popped back in with Berwald a moment behind, stopping in the doorway. The cartoon of a giant blue crab on the taller man's borrowed t-shirt registered briefly before Alfred's knees gave way, and everything went black again.


End file.
